The Lady of Idris
by chrissym453
Summary: Based on Tennyson's "The Lady of Shalott." Clary is cursed to a tower, the curse keeping her there unknown. Jace is a young knight that hears the song of the Lady of Idris every night on his way home. When Clary finally escapes the tower, will Jace be able to help her break the curse? AU/Mostly mundane. Rating may go up.
1. Chapter 1

_**The Lady of Idris**_

Summary: Based on Tennyson's "The Lady of Shalott." Clarissa, a maiden with hair of fire and the voice of an angel, is forever trapped within the walls of her tower overlooking Idris. Day after day, she weaves the scenes reflected to her from beyond the confinements of the four walls in her mirror, dreaming of being free. These hopes are all in vain, for Clarissa is cursed to never leave, the threats of the curse unknown but forever looming over her head. Jonathon Christopher is a young knight with golden hair, golden eyes, and golden skin that hears the song of the Lady of Idris every night. When Clarissa tests the limits and danger strikes, will Jonathon be able to help her? AU/Mundane.

**AN: **Hello, fabulous TMI fandom! This is just a quick note for a little background on this fic. Again, it's based on "The Lady of Shalott" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. If you haven't read this poem, I do suggest you read it before reading this fanfiction. The poem is incredible and reading it before reading this fanfiction will surely help you with your comprehension of the plot. I will be giving this story an ending different from that of Tennyson's original poem, because Clace. For most of the story, however, the fic should read true to the poem. I'm super excited for this because the fic is based on my favorite poem EVER and it's my first published story for TMI. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do! To conclude, I will post my disclaimer: Sadly, my name is not Cassandra, therefore I do not own TMI. In addition, I was not born in 1809, so that eliminates any possibilities of me owning "The Lady of Shalott."

_Chapter One_

_On either side the river lie_

_Long fields of barley and rye, _

_That clothe the wold and meet the sky; _

_And through the field the road runs by_

_To many-towered Camelot._

A tangled mess of red ringlets rises with a start, being tugged at by soft, pale hands to reveal a round face with emerald eyes resting on a bed pushed against the wall by a large, bay window. Upon registering the soft glow that bathes the room from the golden sun outside, the eyes immediately begin to search for the source; however, this action is halted before anything too serious could happen as the owner of the eyes remembers the undefined curse that blocks her from freedom. Smothering a groan, she rises from her resting place and sets eyes on her loom.

Walking towards the only thing that occupies her hours, the maiden, Clarissa, grabs a ripe, red apple to have for breakfast. As she delicately eats the apple, she slowly savors the sweet flavors that clash against the leathery skin of the apple before she sits down at the complicated contraption to continue her threaded creations.

_There she weaves by night and day_

_A magic web with colors gay._

Her hands work mercilessly with the loom, her eyes forever cast in the direction of the mirror that displays the view through the window and her creation, allowing her a glance at life beyond the walls. Her melodic, soprano voice floats through the walls of her tower, traveling through the air to tease the free listeners wandering through the paths of Idris.

From beyond the walls a whisper can be heard that silences the cackling laughter bubbling from the children down below. "Hush now," it commands, "and listen, for it's the voice of the Lady of Idris!"

Clarissa smiles softly to herself, reveling in the idea that at least someone knows she exists, taking a moment to pause her ministrations before continuing again.

As the sky darkens, Clarissa's weaving slows before finally halting as she observes the day's work. The bright pinks of the setting sun enhance the blue threads woven together to create the sky that follows all the way down her creation until meeting the bright green of the grass that holds the image of children playing under the noon sun.

Contentedly sighing, Clarissa folds her woven design and adds it to her collection of the images from days past before grabbing another apple, this time a green apple, appreciating the sour taste that cleanses her mouth of the day. She carefully crosses her room to her wash bin cleanse her face, making sure to work off all of the sweat gathered from concentrating on her loom all day.

With one last song that combines with the sweet sound of laughter emanating from a newlywed couple as they enjoy the last of their picnic, the Lady of Idris climbs into her bed to sleep in preparation for another day of weaving, muttering something under her breath as sleep takes her.

_I am half sick of shadows_

The next morning begins just as every other morning had for Clarissa: waking up to remember a curse, selecting an apple, and beginning to weave. However, around noon Clarissa's day changes, for better or for worse, one cannot yet say.

As she stared into her mirror, easily weaving everything in sight, she hears a warm, masculine voice teasing a young boy. She sees the glint of armor peaking just through the trees visible in her mirror and pauses her weaving as she watches the scene unfold.

_His broad clear brow in sunlight glowed;_

_On burnished hooves his war horse trode; _

_From underneath his helmet glowed_

_His coal-black curls as on he rode, _

_As he rode down to Camelot. _

A dashing young knight comes into view, his armor shining under the high-noon sun. As he guides his white horse through the woods, his every feature glimmers of gold. His eyes seem to sparkle brighter than diamonds as he tugs the horse along, his smile glowing as he laughs with a young boy, no older than ten.

"Of course you'll be as good of a knight as me, Max! After all, I am your teacher," she hears the deep voice tease, his amusement lacing his words as he is admired by the young man.

"I don't know, Jonathon, I don't know. What if I don't make it? Father would never allow me back home!" The boy exclaims, his voice distressed.

"Of course you'll make it, Max. Even if you didn't, your father would love you just the same," the knight, Jonathon, assures Max. Clarissa smiles softly at the sight. "Don't worry about that, Max, think of other things. You see that tower up there?" At the boy's nod, the knight continues. "There's said to be a young maiden that lives there, for passerby's can hear her song as she stays pent up in the tower for all of her days, trapped by a curse that prevents her from ever leaving," the knight finishes, softening his tone for the end of the tale.

Suddenly, a pang of longing overwhelms Clarissa, causing her expression to falter as she realizes that if she stays pent up in the tower any longer, she may never feel the love she so desires to feel from another human being. Mustering up her confidence, the maiden hastily stands up and backs away from her loom. She splashes water against her face to feel refreshed and turns towards the window, her eyes downcast. She crosses the room in three strides before she bravely lifts her gaze to set her eyes upon the true image of Camelot. As her eyes first find the plush green grass, she hears a cracking sound from the mirror on her loom, sending her into a fright.

_Out flew the web and floated wide;_

_The mirror cracked from side to side;_

"_The curse is come upon me," cried_

_The Lady of Shalott._

With fear overtaking all of her positive emotions, Clarissa can think of only one thing: _run. _So she does. She darts down the stairwell of her dreaded tower as the mirror continues to crack, the sound of shattering glass chasing her as she runs. The shadows that trapped her all of those years grow darker as she gets closer to the only exit from the towering prison.

She becomes surrounded by darkness as her feet near the last of the steps, her hands shaking as they hold up the layers of her dress to prevent her from tripping. The effort seems pointless as she trips despite herself, barely managing to catch herself in time. She reaches the end of the stairwell and the only light it in the room is that of which leaks underneath the large, wooden door that is swollen shut, blocking her path.

Clarissa channels all of the strength she possesses to break down the door and reveal her path, but the door barely moves. She hits it again and again, realizing that her diet of two apples a day was probably not the best idea as almost all of her energy is depleted with a few shoves.

Preparing to succumb to the darkness of shadows, Clarissa steps away from the door before slowly sliding down the wall from exhaustion.

"Shadows are not easy to escape," she mutters as her eyes begin to flutter shut, quickly losing all hope. Her ears pick up on a faint rustling behind the door before it's heaved open with a grunt. Clarissa glances up, squinting against the now harsh light of the sun to see her savior, the golden knight.

He gracefully bends down, the steel of his armor clanking, as he rests a concerned gaze on Clarissa.

"Miss, are you alright?" he asks, confusion mixing in with his concern.

Clarissa tries to respond but instead of having a fluid voice as she had hoped, her voice is broken and filled with stutters. "I-um-I'm f-fine," she finally utters, feeling slightly less than fine, her exhaustion hitting full force. The knight offers her his hands to assist her with standing and she gratefully accepts them, wobbling a little bit on her feet before he extends one of his hands to steady her by her waist, sending electricity through her body.

Once she regains her balance, Clarissa feels an immediate loss of heat as the knight removes his hands from their spot on her slight waist. The maiden smiles thankfully at the knight and tentatively moves to walk through the door, the cold stone brushing her bare feet before she steps onto the plush grass of the outskirts of Idris.

As she walks further into the world, her smile grows wider and wider as the sun warms her pale skin, the knight following close behind her to catch her if need be. Eventually, Clarissa turns around and is met with the glimmering gold eyes of her rescuer.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he confidently states, "Jonathon Christopher, at your service, but you can call me Jace."

"Clarissa Fray," she responds, "It's an honor to meet you."

"The honor is all mine," he tenderly smiles.

**AN 2: **What'd you think? Stay tuned for Chapter 2, where Clarissa gets a deeper glimpse at what exactly the dreadful curse is! xoxo, chrissym453


	2. Chapter 2

_The Lady of Idris_

**AN: **I didn't forget I swear. It was school. Blame it all on school. I love you guys. Thanks for the follows/favorites. On the bright side, even with my neglect to this, I just received my first college acceptance letter! Woo! See you guys at the end!

_Previously in __The Lady of Idris__:_

"Allow me to introduce myself," he confidently states, "Jonathon Christopher, at your service, but you can call me Jace."

"Clarissa Fray," she responds, "It's an honor to meet you."

"The honor is all mine," he tenderly smiles.

_Chapter Two_

Staring into the knight's gold eyes, Clarissa finally realizes how tall he is. With no one to compare herself to her entire life, she had always assumed she was of an average height, but with seeing Jace towering over her, she realizes she's either fairly short or he's extraordinarily tall.

Once she realizes she's been staring for a little too long, Clarissa finally realizes that Jace must've asked her a question, since he's staring at her quizzically.

"Please forgive me, what was the question?" she asks, her face flushing slightly from the embarrassment of being caught openly staring at him.

"It's no problem, I was just wondering what a lovely, innocent, young girl like yourself was doing inside of a dark tower like that?" he asks, gesturing with a long, lean arm towards the mess of dark grey stones that had held Clarissa her entire life.

Shivering slightly at the memories, Clarissa responds with a soft, "I used to live there," deciding immediately that she will never be venturing back into that prison.

"You used to live there? How long ago? When you were a child or something?" Jace questions. Clarissa really wishes he would stop that, her head is starting to swim from all of the memories these questions bring up.

"Oh, until recently," she responds nonchalantly, seeing no sense in making a big deal out of something she never wants to think about ever again.

Jace's mouth opens, then closes, contemplating his next words carefully. When his mouth opens again, his words tumble out softly, like a light summer breeze that gently turns the leaves of trees upwards. "Are you… are you her? The Lady of Idris?"

_Ah, there it is, _Clarissa thought, _the question I was hoping to avoid for the rest of my life. Well, here goes nothing. _"While I do choose to refer to myself as something a bit more casual, I have heard many townspeople passing by the tower refer to me as that," Clarissa stated, her voice wavering slightly at the end of her thought.

Jace's eyes widen at this and he instantly straightens at her words. His eyes begin to skim over her entire being, almost in a daze, as he finally comprehends who he just saved. His eyes linger on her mouth, taking in the soft lips that often lulled him further and further into a trance as he passed the tower each evening. Stammering for words, he settles for the slightly awkward silence that consumes the air around them.

After seconds of Clarissa and Jace staring at each other, their eyes studying the other's face, a flash of insecurity passes through Clarissa's emerald eyes before she begins to turn away and walk towards the forest. This causes Jace to snap out of it, quickly turning to Max and telling him to take his horse home with him and that he would stop by to see him later before following after Clarissa.

"Wait, Clary," he urges, causing Clarissa to stop in her tracks at what he said. _What? Clary? What is that even? What?_

"What did you say?" she inquired, turning abruptly to face the knight.

Jace looks questioningly towards Clarissa, "um, wait," he restates, slightly confused.

"No, no I heard that, I meant what you said after that," Clarissa encourages, curiosity gleaming in the deep green of her eyes.

"Oh, I believe I called you Clary, if that's okay. It's just that, well, it's easier to say than Clarissa," Jace responded, smiling sheepishly.

The corners of Clary's mouth turned up slightly, appreciating the way Jace's new name for her rolls off of his tongue. The shortened name is simple, like herself, Clary decides.

"Is it okay?" Jace asks, explaining his question further at Clary's confusion. "The nickname, I mean. Is it okay if I call you that?"

Clary notices the hopeful look in his eyes, a look that gives him almost a boyish appearance, and knows that even if she didn't like the nickname, she would've said yes because of his eyes. "It is a perfectly wonderful name, I do believe, and I should be honored to be called by it," Clary responds, her eyes dancing with playfulness, deciding to keep up the long, complicated sentences as they give her mind something to focus on other than the dull ache that is slowly working its way into her abdomen.

Jace smiled warmly at Clary before questioning her again, "where are you going?"

Clary looked around the forest before glancing back at Jace, "I'm not sure, but I'm not going back to that tower," she said, determination evident in her voice.

"Alright, mind if I accompany you? I would never forgive myself if something happened to you and I could've done something to prevent it," Jace says, his words sincere.

"I have no objections to your companionship," Clary concedes.

With that, they walk. They walk for hours. Clary's abdominal pains grow in intensity but she refuses to let them get the better of her. The slightly worn moss of the forest floor leads Clary and Jace closer to the river, and closer to a small cabin. Seeing as it's almost dark, Jace insists they stop for the evening and seek shelter, urging Clary that if they do not seek shelter soon, they might be out after dark, leaving them susceptible to the creatures of the night.

Feeling the effects of her abdominal pains, Clary agrees and the two begin walking towards the home. Jace takes a place slightly in front of Clary, in case whatever is in the house is worse than what is outside of the house, before rapping his knuckles against the soft wood of the cabin's door.

After no more than half a minute of waiting, the door swings open to reveal a tall man with blonde hair and eyes darker than a moonless night. He stares expectantly at Jace, not even noticing the red-haired woman behind him.

Jace straightens a little bit, using his armor to make himself seem more menacing. While the stranger and Jace are matched in height and weight, Jace's armor makes him seem stronger and more intimidating. The stranger doesn't back down, though his eyes show his slight panic at seeing a knight on his doorstep.

"We have been travelling for the better part of the day and it would seem that we have misjudged the distance between our starting point and our destination. Would it be possible for us to seek refuge in your cabin for a while? Even if it's only long enough for the lady to rest her feet, she's been walking bare foot through the forest all day," Jace inquired, hoping that the stranger would be more accepting of the young woman than he would an ordinary knight.

Peering around Jace's armor, the stranger spots Clary, his pupils dilating slightly at the sight of her. He steps away from the door and ushers for them both to enter, Jace clasps Clary's hand in his own before gently tugging her into the house.

Clary stays close to Jace, not liking the way the stranger eyes her as she enters the house, but feeling too tired and sick to insist they find another place to stay.

"I'm Sebastian Verlac, at your service, mi'lady," the stranger bows to Clary while staring up at her with his dark eyes, Clary's own eyes refusing to meet his. His brow furrows slightly at this, but he doesn't push further. He offers both of his guests a seat with a fake smile stretching his features. Jace and Sebastian make small talk, though Sebastian's eyes continue to linger on Clary.

Sebastian offers the pair a drink, and at their acceptance, he stalks off towards another room to prepare some sort of beverage. It was only then that Clary realized how thirsty she truly was.

During Sebastian's absence, Jace's gaze finds Clary, observing the clammy look her skin has taken on and the tired, dark circles surrounding her eyes. He notices how cold she looks with her frail arms wrapped tightly around her midsection, her back slightly hunched. Leaning over, he asks if she's okay. Her response is a tight nod that ends just as Verlac returns to the room.

"Excuse me, Jace, could I speak with you for a moment," Sebastian asks, his eyes serious. Jace nods his consent and follows Sebastian through the door of the cabin.

Clary waits patiently, almost drifting to sleep in the few moments that Sebastian and Jace are gone. Just as her eyes begin to shut against the pain that's drifting from her stomach to her chest, the door opens once again and Sebastian walks in, Jace nowhere to be seen.

Question lingering in her eyes, Clary glances to Sebastian, not at all liking the predatory look in his eyes. _If this is what life is like outside of the tower, maybe I should've just stayed, _she thinks, before Sebastian answers her unspoken question.

"Jace is out in the forest getting some firewood, I figured things could use some…" he glances around the room, his eyes twinkling with an emotion Clary can't identify under the dim light of the setting sun, "heating up."

Clary quickly glances between Sebastian and the door, wondering if it would be at all possible for her to slip past Sebastian, feeling her insides cringe at the thought of being trapped alone with him and his dark eyes that greedily scan her body.

Before Clary has a chance to rise, Sebastian has crossed the room to be standing next to her. Feeling uncomfortable, Clary excuses herself to get some air. Just as she makes it to the door, Sebastian roughly grabs her shoulder and turns her around to face him before pushing her against the wall, her back colliding with the wood of the cabin.

With a menacing smile, Sebastian leans in towards Clary and says, "You can get some air after we have some fun, it might take a while, though, Jace won't be back anytime soon."

Clary's heart rate speeds up and just as she opens her mouth to scream, Sebastian's hand covers her mouth, muffling her screams. Hoping Jace wasn't too far away to hear her, she tries to push Sebastian off, but to no avail. His almost demonic smirk leans down and attacks her neck while her hands continue pushing at his shoulders.

Struck with an idea, Clary lifts her knee with as much force as she can muster to hit Sebastian square between his legs. His grip on her lessens, giving her just enough time to scramble away. As she tries to run through the doorway, Sebastian's hand grabs onto her ankle, causing her to fall down, screaming as she does.

Hitting the hard floor, Clary's breath is instantly knocked out of her, adding to the chest pains she was already feeling. Sebastian crouches on top of her, his knees resting just outside of her hips, and slaps her with the back of his hand, causing her face to smack into the ground, a red imprint appearing in the place his hand had landed.

Clary may have been weak, sick, and dying, but a pushover she was not. She refused to let Sebastian get the best of her. Clary searched the floor around her for something she could use. It was then that she saw it: a decent sized rock that was placed near the door, probably for propping it open on hot days. _Not today, _she thought. Today, that rock would be used to knock Sebastian into next week. She reached her arm over and got a good grip on the rock, before sending her arm through the air and making contact with Sebastian's head.

His eyes lost their focus and began to flutter as he lost consciousness. Clary pushed him back roughly so he wouldn't fall on her. As soon as she was free, she used the wall to help herself stand and left as quickly as possible.

Outside, she grew woozy, but willed herself not to lose consciousness until she found Jace. She looked towards the woods and tried to listen for him, but to no avail. Luckily, Jace, or so she hoped, had cleared a path from where he entered the woods to cut the firewood, so she followed it.

Eventually, the sounds of falling timber can be heard, so Clary quickens her pace. Nightfall is approaching quickly and she doesn't want to be caught in this unfamiliar world alone, or with Sebastian anywhere near her.

Under the glow of a setting sun that's being cast through the canopy of greenery, the light beams off of shining, silver armor and gleaming, golden hair that's surrounded by a pile of freshly chopped firewood. Upon the sight, the relief Clary feels is soon overpowered by exhaustion and pain. Her abdomen is still in turmoil and her cheek is beginning to bruise. Her once sparkling green eyes are now dulled with pain.

"Jace," she calls, her voice weak. He turns from his post of cutting wood and sees her, his brow wrinkling in worry.

Her knees go weak and she wobbles where she stands. Before she can hit the ground, Jace races to her, his armor clanking together, and catches her in his metal clad arms. Her eyes flutter shut as she succumbs to darkness.

It is now that Jace takes the time to fully examine her. Her skin is ghostly pale, except for the red-purple tint to her cheek. Realizing this shouldn't be there, he studies it further before realizing it's in the shape of a hand and is, in fact, a bruise. His eyes darken with rage, his body yearning to avenge Clary, though he knows he can't now. _Someday, _he promises. Now, he looks at the redheaded beauty and knows he must do something to help her.

He hears the babbling of a stream as it rolls over smooth stones and heads to it with the maiden in his arms, hoping water will help her regain consciousness, at least long enough to find help. He gently lies her down in what appears to be a soft bed of grass and cups his hands in the stream, filling them with water and allowing the tiniest trickle of it to fall into Clary's mouth, helping her sit up so she doesn't drown. When this doesn't work, he lays Clary on the grass once again and wets his hand before washing her face in the cool water, making sure to dampen her eyes.

Her eyes begin to flutter against the sudden coolness on her face, so Jace calls her name, hoping to pull her out of it.

"Clary," she hears, a soft cooing in her ears as her eyes flutter, her face stinging with the chill of cool water running down her cheeks. Her head pounds with ache and she considers closing her eyes once again, but the coos sound so hopeful that she can't bear to imagine it. Slowly, she pries her eyelids open and is met with the swirling gold eyes of her knight as he looks at her in worry.

"Clary, what happened?"

**AN:** So… sorry about the wait, you guys! I had a challenging summer and beginning of fall with summer classes, scholarships, and some family issues. All of that is settled now, though, and I'm back! I won't say when I'll update again, but I'm _hoping _it will be sometime before Wednesday. In the next chapter we should see the introduction of Mags.

For those of you that are wondering, no, I haven't read CoHF yet, I also haven't finished TID yet. I'm working on it, though. CoHF was checked out in the library forever

You are all wonderful and I love you. Let me know what you think of this! Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon.

Have a wonderful *insert appropriate time of day here*!

xoxo, chrissym453


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